Agree to Disagree
by Rattsu
Summary: When Grey Hawke puts the moves on Fenris, the incorrigble rogue gets more than he bargained for. A fanfic for the fancomic 'The moment after rain' by Pau-Norontaus on deviantart. NSFW.


[Author's note: This is a fanfic for a particularily awesome fancomic by pau-norontaus on deviantart, called 'The moment after rain', so go read that first. Doesn't work very well to link here alas. Also, it will be a bit NSFW.]

...

The rain had stopped but the birds were asleep, which meant that by now the empty farmhouse where they had taken refuge was far too quiet. Normally, Grey Hawke would have done his best to fill that silence with chatter, but right now it seemed that even the rogue was at a loss for words. Fenris had to admit he was grateful for that. The man was infuriating, intent on questioning everything from his rightful belief that magic was a blight on Thedas to his lack of housekeeping. That corpse was left in his mansion for a reason, and if the smell bothered Hawke, he wouldn't need to come visit so often now, would he? The excuse that his wine was better than what they served at the Hanged Man was growing stale. Fenris had expected more, but the rogue was as slippery with his intentions as he was with his words, so in the end it had been up to Fenris to strike the first blow.

As always.

It wasn't as if it had been hard tackling the rogue to the ground and kiss him. Even with a gaping stomach wound Fenris was the stronger of the pair, and being taller just meant that Grey toppled far easier when he fell. Oh that look of surprise had been worth it all, and what was even better was the fact that the kiss had been answered. Passionately. Now Fenris was man enough to admit to himself that he had not been sure what would happen, the rogue flirted with everything on two legs (and sometimes four, Fenris didn't quite trust that mabari), and was serious about as often as Isabela was sober. But part of any battle was taking risks, and this one was paying off wondrously.

Large, clever rogue's hands pulling his leggings down.  
>A careless arm brushing against the Lyrium tattoos on his thigh.<br>He grew harder in response.  
>Grey looking halfway nervous, the usual smirk wavering a little.<p>

If this was a fight, this was the moment Fenris would have struck; his opponent was unbalanced and so very vulnerable. Instead he lay back, pressing a hand to the bandage covering his bleeding stomach, watching Grey pull away to undress, looking anywhere but the elf. Not that the rogue was wearing much from the start, eschewing armor because he said it slowed him down. No wonder he relied on mages so much. Idiot rogue. Idiot handsome rogue.

Fenris pondered if he should tell the other man how much he adored his many scars, but decided that Grey's ego was large enough already. Besides, it was illuminating watching a man usually so sure of himself struggling with coming to terms with what was happening. The way he turned his back when pulling down his breeches, giving Fenris an unplanned but much appreciated view of his backside. The way he sucked in a deep, no doubt nervous, breath before turning back. Yes, Fenris was enjoying this view quite a lot. As was apparently Hawke.

The elf raised an appreciative eyebrow, his eyes travelling down to Grey's erection, stiffening but not all there yet. Hawke's eyes widened as he caught on to the challenge, and the smirk was back. Of course.

"Fenris, you're slender for a warrior," drawled the rogue as he knelt down next to Fenris, wrapping his arms around the elf's legs. "or is it large for an elf?"

Said elf bit back a groan, but whether it was because the movement caused his stomach wound to hurt, or whether it was at Grey's pun, was impossible to say. Instead he deftly avoided the rogue's attempts to put his legs on his shoulders, and pushed up into Hawke's lap. Face to smirking face. Cock to cock too for that matter. Who twitched the most was impossible to say.

No backing down now, for either of them. Not that Fenris had ever backed down from a fight, not like Hawke who had these idiot notions that sometimes it was better to run away and fight another day.

"Are all humans that bad at bed talk?" Fenris asked, grinding against Hawke, searching the other man's face for any lack of composure. The mask was back on though, and only the smirk showed.

"Just the ones with nothing to prove," the rogue said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as he tugged Fenris closer. His eyes shifted down a moment, but whether it was to check on the bandage, or on the elf's erection that kept poking him in the stomach was hard to say.

Fenris knew what he wanted to believe. Shifting his weight slightly he slid upwards, causing Hawke to lose his balance, putting his hands back to steady himself. Good, he was surprised at the rogue; usually he wouldn't let himself be corralled like this in battle. There was something in the way he sucked in a moan as Fenris slid back, pressing down the human's cock with his weight as he sank into his lap that made the elf feel downright predatory.

"Then again," the rogue continued, the slightest hitch in his voice. "I know you're not really listening to rumors, so perhaps I must make my case and prove it all."

"Yes, that might be necessary," the elf said, smile widening as the cock underneath him twitched, but there was no way that Grey could do anything with it from this position.

Which of course meant that the rogue would make a grab and go for another roll, but this time Fenris was more prepared and braced himself before Hawke could pin him to the ground. When it came to fighting, wolves beat dogs, even Grey's prized mabari though the rogue would never admit it. The notion that Hawke should be the one on top was something Fenris would do his best to disprove, but the rogue was slippery and he had to use more force than he had planned for. Not the best of ideas. Tensing his stomach muscles brought a grunt of pain that not even Fenris could stop, and Hawke actually pulled back from their impromptu wrestling match with a concerned look on his face.

"The wound how are you holding up Fenris?" Hawke sounded worried, which perhaps not was that strange since the bandage around the elf's midriff was getting increasingly soaked with blood.

"I'll be alright once I'm inside you," Fenris replied, steadying himself as he reached out to run a rather bloodstained hand over Hawke's shoulder. The rogue accepted the touch, pressing back against the elf and then the meaning of the words hit him.

"Wait," he started, eyes narrowing. "You. In. Me?" He pronounced each word carefully, as if he had trouble understanding.

Fenris just looked at him, not backing off. Instead he reached out to run a hand over Grey's cock, calloused palm just as home there as if it had been the handle of a sword. In face, from the stunned look on Hawke's face he might as well have run a sword through him.

"My awkward conversation sense is tingling," the rogue joked with furrowed brow, but it was quite obvious that; one, he was growing quite hard under Fenris hand, and two, he was the only one finding this awkward. Because the elf had no problems at all taking charge of this situation.

Sliding closer, Fenris kept Grey's gaze as if he was staring down a nervous dog. Maybe the rogue wanted assurances that he had joked, or some other form of sign of submission, but no matter how much Hawke might think of himself as their pack leader, Fenris only followed because it suited him. And right now he had his mind set on other things. If only his stomach would stop throbbing, by now he was not sure whether the sweat forming on his brow came from want or wound. Not that it mattered.

What did matter was that Hawke answered his kiss, hesitatingly at first, but then with more passion. Fenris nipped his lip, kept one hand busy with the rogue's shaft, and the other wrapped around his neck. The flush on Grey's cheeks when he pulled back was as delicious as first blood, and he was not at all surprised when the rogue allowed him to slid around behind him without much protest.

Of course the protest came when Fenris rubbed his by now rather aching and neglected erection against the rogue's ass, because the friction drove away the dizziness that was threatening to overwhelm him. This much contact with sweaty skin against Lyrium tattoos made his whole body ache, but it was a welcome distraction. As was Hawke's slight wince, and stronger blush.

"This is not how I imagined it!" Grey protested with a grimace, but his quickening breath spoke a different story. And he did not pull away.

"Shut up for once, Hawke," Fenris said, wrapping his arms around the taller man from behind. He just needed to steady himself for a moment, and from this angle the rogue could not see the red that was now staining his back where Fenris had leaned on him. He'd probably complain about Fenris bleeding on him. Again. The man was nothing if not in love with complaining about everything the elf did.

Which made it all the more sweet that he kept his silence as Fenris slid a hand down, hand squeezing Hawke's ass. Well, he did grunt, but they were more sounds than words, and Fenris supposed they could count as shutting up. So he rewarded the rogue by not being too rough as he pushed him forward onto the blankets where he had been bleeding an hour earlier. Grey might be taller and have wider shoulders, but Fenris was a man used to lugging around a sword as big as himself and drive said sword through massive plate armor. There really was no competition who would win in a fight, Hawke himself had admitted as much earlier in the evening, and that was quite likely the most seductive thing that the rogue had ever said to him.

Fenris supposed he should repay him for that.

A finger up the ass might be a good start. It was slick enough to slide in easily, and the fact that it was coated with blood and not saliva was really none of Hawke's business now, was it? All that mattered was that the rogue stifled another complaint, because there were some things you learnt when being a slave with a demented Tevinter magister as a master, and this was one of them. Not a memory Fenris had ever wanted to revisit, but now he could replace them with what he was doing to Hawke. Who seemed to enjoy it quite a bit. As Fenris had suspected he would. Few men had any defense against one hand cradling their balls while the other worked their ass open. Not even Grey Hawke it seemed.

Good.

Now if only the world would stop going slightly grayish at the edges.

Maybe he just needed to lean against something. It wasn't as if the rogue needed much coddling. He'd repeatedly bragged about how much he could handle, though Fenris suspected it hadn't quite been meant this way. Too bad he couldn't see Grey's face as he draped himself over the rogue's back, biting down on his neck as he pushed inside. Hard.

This time he got the hiss, but the rogue didn't pull away. Fenris breathed a sigh of relief, letting himself rest inside for a moment. Maybe he should just faint here, but that would be admitting defeat and that was just not something that Fenris did. So he began to move, slowly at first, though even that motion was enough to draw an annoyed and hardly vocalized grunt from Hawke.

Whether it was because of pain, or the unfamiliar sensation of being the one to bottom Fenris didn't know, but he cut off any further protest with a hand around Hawke's cock. Yes, apparently the man did like this, no matter his protests.

"You're a man who is used to getting what he wants," the elf whispered, thrusting hard inside the other man. "Even I usually follow your idiotic decisions." Though he tended to regret it the next morning and swear never to anything that stupid again. "But tonight Hawke, I'm going to devour you."

Except that this much exertion made him feel like he would black out, so reluctantly he pulled out, and found Hawke grabbing hold of him to keep him from collapsing. He didn't need support, but it was a nice excuse to kiss the rogue, hard. Hungry.

"It's not that I'm completely against hungry elves, but," Grey started, the flush replaced by worry.

Fenris decided he would have none of that, he'd waited long enough, Hawke wouldn't worm himself out of this. Pushing the rogue back on the ground was easy, after all, he just had to fall on him.

"Fenris..." came the worried protest, Hawke reaching up to brush back the elf's hair, which was stuck to his face with sweat.

All the rogue got in return was another kiss, and a mixture of sweat and blood smeared over his stomach.

"Fenris, ...hey," he repeated with a more decisive voice, "Stop this. You don't look too hot. I mean obviously hot," he quickly backtracked, "but the bleeding no offense man, I just don't want to be sexually assaulted by a dead guy... well, especially a dead guy."

"No matter," Fenris mumbled, mouth gone dry and vision blurring. "I'm ready to die once I've humbled 'the great champion'." He wouldn't get this chance again he suspected, and fainting was out of the question. He just needed to catch his breath.

The stomach wound was just a scratch.

"Right," Hawke said, definitely not joking now. "The thing is, you're my coolest groupie by far, and I'm not willing to let you die just yet." His hands were almost tender as he grabbed hold of the elf, pushing him away so he could take a look at the bloodied bandages.

The frown said more than a thousand Varrics ever would.

"Shut up and stay still, Hawke," Fenris protested, because he found himself increasingly unable to focus, and when did Grey get to be stronger than him anyway? He just needed to take a deep breath and clear his head.

The deep breath made him wince hard enough that even Hawke noticed.

"No," the rogue said firmly. "As much as it grieves me to say this, but you are in no condition for making out." He almost sounded sad at that, which seemed to give Fenris a new burst of energy.

"Prepare yourself, Hawke," he growled, reaching out to grab the rogue by the shoulders. Not leaning on him. At all.

"Look, you stupid bastard," Hawke said with an exasperated sigh. "You've got no blood left!"

"...it's just a flesh wound," Fenris managed to blurt out before his vision blackened and he collapsed back on the floor in a dead faint.

Apparently this flesh wound bled a lot.

It took a few minutes of lying down, and Hawke re-bandaging the wound before the color returned to the elf's cheeks. In that time, the rogue had managed to get both their pants on back as well. Fenris didn't speak as he allowed Hawke to help him to his feet, still wobbly. Besides, with him spearing Hawke but then passing out he was not certain who had won their little shuffle. This annoyed him to no end.

But it seemed that a completely different thing annoyed Hawke, because the rogue sighed theatrically as he draped a blanket over Fenris' shoulders.

"I was THIS close," Grey lamented, the sadness of a lack of orgasm clearly painted on his expressive face. "And even with this unrealistically perfect setting! Damn you and damn your wounds Fenris." He wrapped a fond arm around the elf's shoulders, though he took care not to lean on him this time.

Fenris was wobbly enough as it was.

"Now if we only had a Mage here," Hawke continued, not catching the look on Fenris face. "Anders could've healed you and we all would've had a happy ending tonight!"

"You... ...wha...?" Fenris blurted out, not sure if he had heard right. But he had, hadn't he? Hawke had just suggested with the mage

Fenris eyes blackened as he lashed out, his fist connected with Grey's face hard enough to knock the rogue to the ground. Before he could regain his footing, the elf stormed out into the night, slamming the door behind him.

...

Left behind, Grey rubbed his bruised chin with a grimace as he grabbed another blanket to wrap around himself.

"Aaaand it's raining again," he said with a sigh as he pulled the tattered fabric over his head and headed out the door. "Thanks for treating my wounds, Hawke," he muttered to himself, imitating Fenris gravelly voice, something which would have no doubt earned him another punch had the elf been within earshot. "Oh, you're welcome, Fenris," he answered in a lighter tone, stomping angrily through the growing puddles.

Yeah, it seemed safe to say that he had burned his bridges there for a while.

Too bad.


End file.
